<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Rip hunter fic dump by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24594829">Rip hunter fic dump</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry'>ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hurt/Comfort, Rip Hunter Lives, Rip Hunter Needs a Hug, Rip Hunter-centric, Sick Rip Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:02:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24594829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshots about our lovely time Captain Rip Hunter!</p><p>From Rip Hunter Bingo</p><p>1. Mick and Rip are trapped together in an elevator and Rip has been poisoned. </p><p>2. Sara gets Rip out of his mind again (post "death" aka Rip was never dead)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rip Hunter &amp; Mick Rory, Rip Hunter &amp; Sara Lance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Unlikely friends + trapped in an elevator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were trapped in that elevator.</p><p> </p><p>Snart said that even they get them out safely it would still be a couple hours.</p><p> </p><p>Mick wanted to tell him to do it unsafely, but the man had already cut the transmission. Lucky him that could leave, lucky him that wasn’t stuck, for endless minutes with only Rip Hunter as company. A quiet, sullen, mightier than thou man that he didn’t like. At all.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t happen to know any tricks to make this get out us situation go faster... English?”</p><p> </p><p>Rip was looking pale and had been quieter than other times, letting Sara take lead, and now he looked awful. Positively awful. He’d sat in the corner of the elevator, white as a sheet, his hair falling on his face, and seemed to have trouble even keeping his eyes open. Odd. He’d been okay this morning.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s happening with you?”</p><p> </p><p>Rip¡s eyes were too bright and glassy. Could time masters even get sick?</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t.... Don’t feel well.”</p><p> </p><p>“You couldn’t have said something before? Stayed in the ship with Gideon?”</p><p> </p><p>Rip didn’t say anything, just looked with big sad eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I was okay... okay then... thought you might need me... But you never do.”</p><p> </p><p>Mick felt... Odd. Why was the Captain being all heartbroken? He’d been fine up until a couple moments ago, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>Despite himself Mick knelt down in front of Rip, put the back of his hand on the Captain’s forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, you’re burning up.”</p><p> </p><p>But this was not the only thing Mick saw when he approached. There was a damn puncture wound in the back of the Englishman’s neck, like something from a syringe. Which meant that Rip had been injected with something, and something quite bad if how sick he got in such a short time was any indication.</p><p> </p><p>“You better hurry.” Mick said to the comm. “I don’t know how long the Captain here has, but he ain’t looking good.”</p><p> </p><p>Mick sighed. He really didn’t want to spend all this time just watching Rip die. He may not be his favourite person in the world, but he had enjoyed some of these time-travelling exploits and he wouldn’t be there if he wasn’t for this odd, terrible Englishman. Sure, he lied and was a bit too biting and mistrusting... But eh, Mick himself wasn’t perfect either, and there was something almost endearing about the way Rip treated them like his children and got all mad when they screwed up.</p><p> </p><p>“Not... Feeling good...”</p><p> </p><p>Mick was at a bit of a loss here. Usually he would have gone for help, let someone kinder or warmer look after the sick man. Or, if he knew what was going on, would have distracted himself trying to do something to get the person to shut up by feeling better, bringing them some fluids, or some painkillers or something. But there was nothing he could do here, in this damn elevator.</p><p> </p><p>He sat next to Rip, feeling absurdly frustrated, huffing uselessly. He knew how to wait. He’d done stakeouts, sometimes for hours. In silence. But this was different. Because he couldn’t leave if he wanted and he was trapped with someone who could very well be dying.</p><p> </p><p>Rip was now wheezing, blue-purpleish shadows appearing under his eyes. Mick didn’t know anything that could cause that, and he was a bit freaked out.</p><p> </p><p>“Mister Rory... Tell me a something pleasant, tell me how do you feel when you light something on fire.”</p><p> </p><p>Mick smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Is just... the best feeling in the world. The flames are so big, the flames take everything, destroy everything. They are so powerful, they are, and so beautiful too, you know? How they take everything, little by little, cover it, make it theirs. I know how it sounds, but hey, no one said I’m not disturbed.”</p><p> </p><p>Rip half smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“It sounds... joyous.”</p><p> </p><p>Wow, the Englishman must really be out of it, huh?</p><p> </p><p>Mick threw a fond look his way. There was a dark side to the Captain he actually enjoyed.</p><p> </p><p>“You ever set something on fire?”</p><p> </p><p>Rip closed his eyes. Mick could see that breathing was becoming harder for the man. Shit. Shit shit shit.</p><p> </p><p>“I have. I was... I was a kid. Set a little fire in the back of a shop... shopkeeper had to go look... I got all the cookies.... that fit in my pockets.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a sense of pride in Rip’s big glassy eyes and Mick decided that maybe this guy wasn’t so bad. Maybe they were more alike than they seemed. Maybe all that hostility, that went both ways, was pretty fucking stupid. They were all questionable people, and there was nothing wrong with that. At all.</p><p> </p><p>“You liked it, didn’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would - like to do it again. Maybe... you could teach me how to... do it best?”</p><p> </p><p>“I could.”</p><p> </p><p>“It would be our... our secret, yes? I did... like it. There was... a certain...”</p><p> </p><p>But Rip couldn’t speak any more. His back arched and he threw up a mix of bile, blood, and whiskey. Mick ran an uncertain hand through the man’s back, not used to this. He wanted to complain about the smell, say something mean about how this didn’t help their situation at fucking all, but what came out was:</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, English. That... that don’t look good.”</p><p> </p><p>Mick shouted at the comms again, more angrily. Sara said that they were going as fast as they could.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m in pain and I am tired. Will you tell me a story?”</p><p> </p><p>Mick had no problem with that.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s this story about when Snart and I broke out of prison. But brace yourself, is long.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now why would I mind more time listening to your sweet gentle voice, huh, Mr. Rory?”</p><p> </p><p>The voice was dripping with sarcasm and Mick decided that maybe he didn’t want this guy to die. He was complicated and elusive and a plain bad person sometimes, but hey, who among them was perfect? Sara had killed a bunch of people and they didn’t hate her.</p><p> </p><p>“So we were... Hey, don’t check out me, do ya hear?” Rip’s head had fallen on to Mick’s shoulder and he knew that passing out was the first step towards checking out completely. Passing on. And no way this guy was gonna die now that Mick had found out he could be fun. No way in hell.</p><p> </p><p>“M listening.” Rip said, with only a thread of voice. “Keep talking.”</p><p> </p><p>“So...”</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>When they managed to open the elevator door Rip had actually stopped breathing and Mick all but shot away with the Captain in his arms blindly to Gideon, basically ignoring everyone else. There was no way this man was dying, much less in his arms, much less because of some shitty time police of some sort had injected him with quick death poison. Gideon would find a cure, Gideon would fix him and they would go back to saying mean things to each other.</p><p> </p><p>None of this I see myself in your eyes nonsense. No shared stories of bad childhoods. It was wrong. The same way that the way Rip was bouncing along his step, unconscious and half dead already, was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>He managed to make it to the medbay and yelled a gruff “FIX HIM” to Gideon after carefully setting the man on one of those dentist chairs.</p><p> </p><p>And then he stayed.</p><p> </p><p>He could go anywhere, but he stayed. He had to, there was something he needed to say, something important.</p><p> </p><p>When Rip woke up there was someone next to him, someone that had been there when the world became nothing but darkness.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Rory....”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, English.”</p><p> </p><p>“You stayed?”</p><p> </p><p>“I owe you a fire-starting class, don’t I.”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed you do.”</p><p> </p><p>(They set an old piano in a field on fire. It’s magical.</p><p> </p><p>But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Rip saves the day + 1970s + Inside Rip's mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>This was not the way it was supposed to be. They were in 1975, and Snart and Mick had fallen victims to some paralytic drug that was in the weapons they were supposed to be confiscating. Now they were sitting next to each other, looking at the those pirates who smiled smugly. Sara was bound with a million ropes and cuffs and Ray had been knocked unconscious. It really seemed that the day was lost.</p><p> </p><p>Sara kept trying to undo her binding, but it was proving impossible, as was for their resident criminals to move, or for Ray to just come to. They were.... well, they were lost. The moment these men thought they had tortured them enough they would be left with some unstable explosives, and left to die, exploded. Or their parts left in 1975, unable to be put together.</p><p> </p><p>Sara cursed herself for having chosen this mission, she cursed her flare pants, and all the very colourful clothes on them and she specially cursed the patchouli smell all around them. How on Earth were they were going to get out of this? Aaaah... She should know better. She was a trained assassin and she was going to let some two-bit pirates get the best of them. This was stupid.</p><p> </p><p>But just as she was going to chafe her wrists even more trying to get out, some lasers beam knocked the wind out of each of those delinquents. With grace and elegance and a small  knowing sarcastic smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Rip!”</p><p> </p><p>“Not to worry, Miss Lance. I will get to you and the others momentarily. All is not lost.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Glad to see you, Captain. You’ve saved our lives.”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Sara did absolutely not understand what this place was. Last time she’d done this she’d landed in the Waverider, sure it was a warped waverider, but it was a familiar place. Now she was in some unknown seventies disco there was psychedelic rock in the background and.... And there was some shady looking guy, carrying an unconscious Ray to somewhere in the back. Why woul Rip be thinking about this? It made no sense.</p><p> </p><p>She followed the man and found... Found herself and the others, tied, bound, helpless. She took care of the time pirates and went to the team. Her tied up self didn’t understand but didn’t complain much as actual Sara started undoing her ties. And then Rip appeared and....</p><p> </p><p>“Sara? What...”</p><p> </p><p>“Rip, you’re here! Come on, I don’t know what this is but we need you out there, ok? No more lazing out in odd 70’s fantasy comas.”</p><p> </p><p>“But... I am supposed to save you...” Rip-in-his-mind said, looking like he was about to fall apart.</p><p> </p><p>Why were there two Saras? Why was she getting ahead with the ropes? He was supposed to do that. He was there to do that. HIs only purpose was to save them. If she took that from him... What was he good for?</p><p> </p><p>“I can save myself, you know that.” Sara said, and Rip felt... wrong. Worthless, useless.</p><p> </p><p>“But... If I save you, if... If I help, then you’ll need me, won’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Rip?”</p><p> </p><p>Alternate Rip was faced with who he was - a burden, good for nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Inside that disco, he’d been something. He didn’t remember that previous time each of the hundreds of times he stormed there, and saved his crew. Every time was like the first time, and every time he saved them. And she was grateful, and he was wanted, and he had a purpose and just... Just people who seemed happy to see him.</p><p> </p><p>Outside there had been nothing but painful rejection, gunshot wounds and horrors. So when he was left for dead, to try and focus on the healing of the body Rip’s mind decided to focus on something good, something that would bring peace and joy, that would want him to keep being alive.</p><p> </p><p>A disco in the seventies.</p><p> </p><p>HIs old captain getup with his old Captain hair and beard, and his old Captain team. And they wanted him, and they needed him and they were glad to see him when he eventually saved the day. He was badass and he was thanked and he mattered. In that disco, he wasn’t a hated outcast, paying for a million bad decisions, remembering all the painful memories and hating himself...</p><p> </p><p>No, in this one moment, he was happy and he was happy, and so were the others. He was worth something. So even after his body had healed, he decided to stay there, comfortable, in a coma fantasy where he was the hero. But now... Now his fantasy was collapsing.</p><p> </p><p>“Why....”</p><p> </p><p>“Rip, we need to get out of here, okay? This is not real, you are not in the seventies, you’re with me, in the waverider, and you’ve been comatose for last couple of years - that’s the real world. We thought you were dead but then found you in some hospital.”</p><p> </p><p>“No...”</p><p> </p><p>“Now I need you to wake up and come back to us, all right? There’s work to do, and you may know...”</p><p> </p><p>“NO.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going back there. I’m not going back to the disdain and the misery and all those bad looks. You don’t need me, you never did, did you? And you don’t want me there. What’s wrong with me wasting away in some fantasy? Don’t I deserve some peace?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” it sounded rough, but Sara couldn’t help it. “You deserve to live, Rip, not waste away lost in some fantasy, as if reality could never be any better!”</p><p> </p><p>“But...”</p><p> </p><p>“You are getting out there, you are going to help us again and you are going to be the mean you used to be.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sara. The man I used to be was a disaster.”</p><p> </p><p>“We all are! But we learn from our many many mistakes and we learn to forgive ourselves.”</p><p> </p><p>She would not forgive him. She just needed him for some information or a weapon or something like that, and then he would be back to that waking hell.</p><p> </p><p>“It was wrong of us, of me who was the Captain to treat you like shit and... Lead you to do... But we can still fix it. We fix what we did to you, you fix what you did to us. You practically gave your life, Rip. People aren’t mad any more.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have no place there any more. No place in the ship, or in time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, we’ll make place for you. You piloted that ship for over a decade, Rip, you will always have a place there.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need this fake setup to feel like you matter, Rip. You have mattered and you can continue to matter if you wake up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sara. You don’t mean that. Don’t lie to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am not lying, Rip. I do want you come back - I want that man there with the duster and the attitude and not some scrawny hald dead shadow of a man. Wake up, Rip. There’s still many places and so many moments in time that you haven’t visited, that you haven’t saved.”</p><p> </p><p>Rip pale eyes looked at Sara’s. The psychedelic music fding, the disco blurring around them. There was only her.</p><p> </p><p>“Wake up. I can’t promise you much, but I’ll be there. And so will all the possibilities that open with you being back.”</p><p> </p><p>And what the hell... Rip wanted to be back.</p><p> </p><p>So he opened his eyes...</p><p> </p><p>The light was blinding, but even there, people were glad to see him. There was Sara just as she promised, Gideon’s familiar voice... And they were happy see him again.</p><p> </p><p>And that was all he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>To be back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed! thanks for reading ;)</p><p>You know you want to comment!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>